In-Depth: A Tour Of Grand Seiko, Part 2
In late September, we published Part 1 of our tour inside Grand Seiko. A lot has changed since we last visited the Japanese manufacturer, but likely no change has been more dramatic and impactful than the inauguration of the brand’s new home of mechanical watchmaking – Studio Shizukuishi – on July 20, 2020. If you read the first story expecting to see inside Shizukushi, I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, but the day is finally here.
Part of what seems to have captivated fans regarding the new space is not just the mechanical watchmaking. Sure, that selling point for the brand has hit new heights with the new “Kodo” Constant Force Escapement (which is actually assembled in Ginza) and 9SA4 manual-wind high beat movement. But there’s something so captivating about the way the Studio Shizukuishi connects so cleanly with the environment that inspires so much of Grand Seiko’s recent work. Much of this is thanks to famed Japanese architect Kengo Kuma who designed the space for Grand Seiko.
So, that’s where we’ll start in Part 2. Later, we’ll also get a brief look inside the Seiko Museum back in Ginza, which is much easier to visit if you’re on a short trip to Tokyo and well worth your time. Hopefully, if you’re not able to get to Japan, this will give you a sense of what makes Grand Seiko so special in the modern landscape of watchmaking.
Day 3: Studio Shizukuishi (And Far, Far Too Many Noodles)
If you haven’t realized by now, Grand Seiko is incredibly proud of their company’s heritage and every place we’ve visited thus far has a little taste of that history to educate visitors, and yes, they do take visitors. Studio Shizukuishi is open to the public on Thursdays and Fridays, but to get there you’ll either make the six-hour drive or two-and-a-half hour train ride to Morioka station in Iwate Prefecture and then take around a 20-30 minute cab ride to the studio. If you somehow were able to get to Tokyo and make your way to Morioka but missed the Seiko museum in Ginza, you get a curated taste of the mechanical side here.
A “Laurel” – Seiko’s first wristwatch.
A deconstructed display of a 9S27 movement.
Another display of a movement and the parts, this time the caliber 9SA5.
I mentioned in my past story that Grand Seiko watchmakers can, through the course of their work, earn “Meister” certification for both their skill and ability to pass that on to future generations of watchmakers. Here are a few of the local Meisters on display.
Down this hallway is the direction you’d go to see the mechanical assembly that Studio Shizukuishi has become known for, but before that I want to take you outside.
Personally, I was incredibly excited to get back outside, despite the incredibly oppressive heat. The photo of the studio that I posted above was taken by diligently standing on a spot painted on the blacktop, where the picture is perfectly framed for cell phone (or other) photography. It shows how much thought went into the experience at Studio Shizukuishi. The exterior and interior walls are lined with local red pine with the traditional Japanese yamato-bari technique. Those boards are placed unevenly, emphasizing the play of light and shadow.
In Japan, forests cover 70% of the country’s land – and yes, that includes the white birch forests that have been a major inspiration for Grand Seiko. The north-facing windows overlook the 6,686-foot Mount Iwate, which, though 12 miles away, is sometimes visible on rare clear days. Grand Seiko has emphasized harmony with nature in more than just architecture. A large majority of the land they own for their facilities outside Morioka has been committed to retaining its natural state.
Asian black bears are a legitimate concern when wandering outside in Morioka, and the team at the studio carried bells (like you’d see on Santa’s reindeer) and bear spray. It’s comical, but if I recall, they said there had been at least one confrontation with a bear.
The white birch forests that surround Studio Shizukuishi.
A view back toward the studio from the walking path.
One common thing you’ll see around the studio are these small insect hotels that help maintain the biodiversity of fauna that Grand Seiko has committed to helping sustain.
Insect hotel? More like a New York studio apartment, am I right?
Back inside, we got to the nuts and bolts – or rather plates and screws – of mechanical watchmaking. You can start to see most of the parts that go into these watches. One of the things we often take for granted are the screws that are necessary to hold parts together. If you think you understand how small these screws are, you still might be subscribed.
Cutting out the bridge and balance cock.
Small screws for the movement. How small?
For context, this is a grain of rice.
And here is that grain under a microscope.
As you walk into Studio Shizukuishi, you’ll notice the vertical wood paneling that connects the inside to the nature just out the windows. There are also massive windows allowing light in for the watchmakers, who are responsible for construction.
From above, you get a good view of all the different jobs that go into the construction. No parts manufacturing took place on site that I saw.
Watch movement assembly is done in the first two rows as you walk down the hallway. Next comes hairspring adjustment. Fourth row is more hairspring work and movement assembly. See below which you can identify which of the following is taking place.
To give a sense of how fine of work all the watchmakers are expected to do, Grand Seiko has this example. That’s a 5mm piece of paper that all watchmakers are responsible to turn into a tiny paper crane.
Now you can see movements being assembled and case.
Upstairs, there’s also a small showroom. Why, you ask? Well, take a look at the photo below.
The Grand Seiko SBGH283 Studio Shizukuishi Exclusive, which can only be purchased on tour at the studio workshop. I went hands-on with this and two other Japanese exclusives in a recent story.
A view of Mount Iwate in the distance.
Finally, we got a deep walkthrough of the new 9SA4 manually-wound High-Beat movement that is up for a GPHG award in the new SLGW003. The man behind that movement (and who did the education) is Yuya Tanaka. To me, this is like meeting a rock star.
Tanaka spent a lot of time looking at vintage manually-wound watches so he could get the winding click just right which is a massive part of the success of the watches the movement powers.
Two of the releases so far are above, the white birch SLGW002 and SLGW003.
Tanaka pointing out the “wagtail” that helps regulate the click of the wind for the mainspring. That design was inspired by a bird common to the area around Studio Shizukuishi.
Here’s another look at the finishing and stripes done on the bridge. Because the watches aren’t made in Geneva calling them “Geneva Stripes” wouldn’t make much sense. But here, they’re called .”Shizukuishi River Finish.”
Food And Self-Loathing in Morioka – And A Bit Of Sight-Seeing
In Part 1, I promised that I wasn’t going to share the meals on the trip or anything superfluous, but I want to make an exception. Grand Seiko did a great job of giving us some exposure to the cultural landscape that inspires Grand Seiko. After our morning tour at Shizukuishi, they took us on afternoon trips around Morioka near the studio. But first, lunch. Wanko soba, to be exact.
One thing I mentioned in Part 1 is that Grand Seiko did a good job of putting the work they do in the larger framework of Japanese culture. Most of that broader cultural experience came on Day 3, and I’ll get to the substantive parts in a minute. But wanko soba will haunt my dreams for a while.
Here’s the long and short of it. Wanko soba (wanko is a regional word for a wooden bowl) is a style of Japanese soba noodles originally from Iwate Prefecture. The tour group went to Azumaya, where we sat at a table with a large bowl with a lid, some garnishes and meat options, and a group of waitresses came to the table dumping small cups of noodles in our bowl. The goal was either to enjoy lunch or eat as much soba as possible. We all took bets on how much we could eat and, after hearing there was a special certificate for finishing 100 bowls, I set that as my goal. The empty cups were stacked 15 high and the noodles kept coming and coming until you placed the lid back on your bowl. Then you were done – no going back.
Well, I hit 100 bowls (and a few beers) in a bit over 28 minutes. But I didn’t pace myself – a rookie move. One of the Grand Seiko team members bested me by a handful of bowls. They went much slower and could keep things moving at a better pace. I was still both weirdly, immensely proud, and incredibly regretful. But I returned with a certificate and a little wooden medallion to remember that pride and regret.
To walk it off, we got to explore a bit more of Morioka, starting with the Morioka Hachimangu Shrine, a Shinto shrine that was originally established in 1062, then was rebuilt in 1593 by the Nanbu clan to be the protective shrine for Morioka Castle. The shrine burned down and was rebuilt in 1884, with the main structure dating only to 2006. But it was a good place for my exposure to the practices of the Shinto religion and the cultural Shinto practices of many Japanese.
After doing the appropriate ritual washing of hands, we got to explore some of the shrine.
Next we visited a local landmark, an historic home and also great place for influencers (or just normal folks, I’m not sure who was who) to take some beautiful photos of the gardens and what these historic homes would have looked like. But there was actually a Grand Seiko connection we discovered inside.
Nanshoso, an historic home in Morioka City, built by a local businessman, Yasugoro Segawa, as his residence around 1885 (the Meiji Period). People now can visit for tours of the garden and matcha.
If you’re looking for a nice place to relax and escape the heat, you can do far worse than here.
While part of the pond was dried up from the unseasonable September weather, it was still a nice break from the concrete jungle I’m used to in New York.
Grand Seiko is known for drawing inspiration from nature and the surrounding world, so as we walked through the house, someone from the brand pointed out we were seeing inspiration in action. These lacquered floors reflected the moving maple leaves that inspired the SBGJ273 GMT with red dial.
Day 4: The Seiko Museum
At the start of day four, we made our way back to the big city of Tokyo. I spent an extra week in Tokyo after the tour and I think it’s hard to describe, even if you look at a map, how truly massive the city is. When I went down to Yokohama, there was no sense of where Tokyo ends and anything else begins.
After the morning travel, we arrived in Ginza for a tour of the Seiko Museum. The museum has recently started going through renovations which started with the Grand Seiko’s floors. If you’ve ever been to the Grand Seiko boutique in New York, you’ll see that the design language will feel quite familiar.
Starting off with a few Grand Seiko firsts.
One of the more interesting documents on display was the Grand Seiko wordmark and design framework. There’s something so elegant about the process of developing a logo like this, which has stood the test of time.
Grand Seiko has rightfully raked in a number of awards over the years and two of those are on display.
If you want to see Grand Seikos, you’ve got loads to look at.
The patina here is fantastic.
While the case shape and bracelet here are something I’ve never seen before.
Here are some of the calibers powering the watches shown above.
For me, any chance to see a variety of pocket watches, including some of the early ones imported to Japan before Seiko.
Early machinery that allowed Seiko to start making their own parts.
An early pocket watch chronograph.
American railroad watches did make their way over to Japan as well, which is no surprise with how rapidly Japan expanded their rail system.
Two early Seiko pocket watches.
And yet another example of a Seiko Laurel.
This display of the parts of the Seiko Laurel was fascinating.
Early Seiko advertisements.
During the Great Kanto Earthquake, the factory for Seikosha, the predecessor to Seiko, burned so intensely that it created this melted metal mass of pocket watches.
A marine chronometer.
This clock was fascinating, though I certainly didn’t completely understand how it worked or how you’d tell time with it, but before the standardization of time with the rest of the world, Japan had their own time system with varying lengths of the day over the course of the year.
As we move further along in the museum we started to see a number of more creative and wild clocks and watches from Seiko’s history.
If this looks a lot like an American railroad pocket watch, that’s because it’s Seiko’s answer to the American offering.
Here’s another fascinating solution to a very real-world problem: a tactile pocket watch for blind users.
Maybe my favorite watch that I saw on the trip: a Seikosha military officer’s wrist watch from World War I. I’ve spent a lot of time trying to find a similar example but just can’t seem to dig one up.
Another Seiko for the military, this time (obviously) the navy.
A creative dial selection.
A really interesting display from a Seiko Chronos.
Here’s a curious puzzle: why does the watch on the left show the time backward? Guess in the comments below.
If you like Seiko 5, they’ve got plenty on display there too.
If you’re sick of carrying a phone to do all your computing, you can go back to the 1980’s for the Seiko Wrist Computer System.
Finally, I wanted to leave with you with the original Grand Seiko 45GS. But you’ll before we go, we got to see not only the new reissues (below) but the two men behind those and so many more pieces.
The SLGW004 and SLWG005.
The minds behind the designs, Mr. Junichi Kamata (Grand Seiko Design Director) and Mr. Akira Yoshida (Grand Seiko Designer). But if you want to see what else they have coming, you’ll just have to wait a little bit longer.
Goodnight and goodbye from Japan.
Hodinkee